Admiration
by Constabulary
Summary: "I wish to see your face," he says, "I've wanted to for a long time." Connor / OC Oneshot.


I've played Assassin's Creed III. I have beaten Assassin's Creed III and I have wept so many tears I think my tear ducts have called it quits. Connor, just, my word, such an emotional character. So I believed he deserved a somewhat emotional fic to himself.

**_Edit:_** On a quick note, her previous name Caoimhe was pronounced "keev-ah". Sadly, with no disrespect to the Irish or Gaelic language and/or dialects, I do not care for the pronunciation, so to cure both parties. I have changed her name to something more befitting to both her parents. Also, Native American Cheyenne tribes are a little far west, but considering what time period it was, I wouldn't be surprised if a few Natives were taken as slaves? Hm?

I do not own Assassin's Creed.

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_Admiration_

* * *

_January, 1775_

Ivette Boulstridge loved winter with all her heart. It was only once January came, that the cold went to the point of being unbearable. The ground was coated with snow that covered even the largest of horses to their knees and if one was to step (albeit if they could) through it carelessly, they would find themselves buried within seconds. If this was not enough; the wildlife, specifically bears and packs of wolves were still running about, hungry for anything that so much as twitched.

"My word, these January winters." Ivette was perched in a tree, resting in the v-shaped crevice. Her eyes taking in her surroundings from under the crook of her hood. Hooked to her waist was a burlap satchel. Actually, right now, she should well be on her way to deliver what was in the satchel, but it was just that at slow, quiet moments like these, she would find herself staring off into the scenery; taking mental snapshots she would add to her ever growing collection.

Surprisingly, there was also beauty to these seasonal inconveniences. The snow engulfed the area in a crystalline blanket that shone both dawn and dusk. The babbling brooks painted their blue way through the white and the whistling of the winter air at night sung a wondrous tune. It was all so wonderful, so beautiful to her despite her growing distaste for the obstacles that came with it.

Anyway, as much as she'd love to stay in admiration, she had a package to deliver. Ivette drops from the tree, tumbling unto a pile of snow and brush.

"Ah, not one of my gossamer landings…" She brushes the snow from her bag and pats the rest out of her hood. She takes a deep breath, blowing into her hands, rubbing them together to gain some kind of heat from the friction. This type of weather called for one to be in one's home, yet she found herself outside. She worried about herself sometimes.

Guiding her eyes along the horizon she could see the snow still thick as ever ground-wise. So, trucking through the snow at this point was not going to be any easier. That being said, nor were the slippery branches above, but she found herself back in the trees. Carefully, she moved herself along the branches, keeping like this until the foliage became too thick with snow to continue and went by foot. Howbeit, this was also the time she had come onto the path that led up the hill. From her place she could see her destination clearly.

The Davenport Homestead.

A smile came upon her face as she made her way up the stairs. Before knocking, Ivette couldn't help but once again notice the new atmosphere the Stead had; old surfaces were refurbished and were repainted to look like new.

Really, the Homestead has never looked better.

She lands a few knocks to the door before it opens and she's greeted by a familiar face. Her eyes rest on the old man that had opened the door and she bows her head in respect.

"Good day, Achilles."

"Come now child, I'm sure you can give a better approach." A low chuckle escapes her as she gently embraces him, "Nice to see you as well Ivette, do come in," he makes way for her to enter, "I was expecting you to come by at a later time." She flashes a soft smile in his direction as she sets the bag on a table, her fingers traced over the latches, "You do not have much to do I assume?"

"Per contra, I still have much to do," she says, "However, I do have _also_ have enough time for my _teacher_, so it was requested that I deliver this." She pulls out a basket and sets it besides the bag, "It was freshly made this morning."

Achilles chuckles as he eyes the familiar parcel, "I wonder what it is this time." Ivette only motions Achilles over to the basket to have a look for himself.

"Oh the usual," she chimes as soon as he opens the lid. Achilles was met with the ever sweet smell of homemade goods; it was smell he'd never find himself tire of. Today, the basket seemed fuller than usual.

"My, you and your mother have outdone yourselves this time." she laughs.

"It was necessary, she insisted; your previous portions disappear too fast."

He laughs fondly thinking of his apprentice's face whenever the boy hears of the arrival. That boy could eat. Ivette strolls across the room as he responds, "Why yes, you may be right." She gazes at the eagle statue. Such a majestic bird it was, fearless and strong. Reminded her of a certain Mohawk.

Ivette must admit, it did not take her long to admit to the fact that she found some sort of interest in him. A sense of admiration you could say, seeing she was similar to him in being a mutt. Alternatively, she believed he shared the same admiration, maybe even greater, she did not know. But the feeling was there.

"Now now," she feels the butt of Achilles's cane against her spine, "I'm sure you have much to do. No time to be dilly dallying. Off you go."

"Yes, yes." she reaches out for her bag as she passes by the table, "Do take care of yourself Achilles."

"You have no need to worry about me. Ah yes, if you do happen to see Connor on your way, do tell him there's a letter for him." With the nod of her head, she closes the door behind her.

Ivette was actually hoping the thought of Connor wouldn't come up in her short visit but everything seem to relate to him. Looking at the statue didn't help much either. Now, there was a sense of dread over her. The two rarely met for long. Crossed paths and lent the other support many times, yes; but never had they the time for a decent exchange of words. She thought that maybe if she were to arrive earlier today, she'd be able to see him.

She crossed her arms leaning her weight against one of the pillars. Had she become so desperate just to catch a glimpse of his face? Perhaps, maybe her admiration was changing into l-

Bah! Preposterous!

Too engrossed in her own thoughts(and her denial) Ivette does not pay attention to the new individual to the area. Only when she hears the sound of heavy footsteps meet the stairs does she finally leave her thoughts. She looks in the direction of the sound to see Connor, a look of ill in his face, thinking deeply to himself.

"Ah, Connor!" her voice pulls him out of his thoughts and the man looks ahead. He looked surprised to see her, but there was also slight smile on his face. Ivette reaches out and grips his forearms, the gesture in which they first greet each other, "Long time no see." Connor also grips her forearms and nods his head.

"Yes, it's been a while." They release and embrace each other briefly. She sees that his hood is down; he was accustomed when around the Homestead. But rarely would she see him like this for herself.

Tan skin, the subtle scars, strong jawline and those deep brown eyes. He was handsome, simply put.

Connor on the other hand could not give any opinion on Ivette's looks. Never in his whole time of knowing her had he seen her with her hood off. Even summers. Her heritage was the most he knew about her and in honesty he yearned to see her face. When he thought about their friendship, he could not recall any time the two have actually talked.

Both ends not uttering a single word, Ivette was the one to break the silence.

"Oh, before I forget," with her thumb she points behind towards the door, "Achilles requested I inform you of a letter that has arrived for you." she pats her bag, "He said that if I were to meet you on my way, I would give word." Connor nods in apprehension.

"I see, thank you." Ivette smiles and Connor swears he felt something flutter in his chest.

"Not a problem. It must be urgent if he wanted you to know of it as soon as possible," she leans off the pillar. "I should be going now. Mother probably needs help with the winter pruning." she walks by him, but is immediately stopped when she feels something-someone grab her wrist. She looks back, shocked but also curious.

"Hm? Is something the matter?" Even Connor had not registered what he done and upon realization he quickly lets go.

"Sorry, I was only wondering if you could spare a few more moments," he pauses, "Seeing that we do not converse with one another as often as we think."

Godspeed!

Ivette turns around eying Connor, waiting for him to start but she was the one to talk first, "I trust things have been well?" he nods.

"Yes, well. And of yourself?" Ivette tried to sustain herself from breaking out into laughter. Connor was always a socially awkward individual.

"Yes, things have be- Ha ha ha." Sorry, that slipped out. Even when they first met, Connor was never one to engage in conversation. At first, the fact was because she was a woman. Now, who knows the reason? In her amusement and his embarrassment, Connor could feel the blood rush to his face. "Things have been well." His fists slightly clenched; she will not deter him!

"And your mother?" Ivette's smile doesn't waver, she caught that split moment of nervousness.

"Oh yes, she's alright. She's glad to know someone else enjoys her baking." Oh yes, Ivette's mother. He'd met her on occasions. She was Native American, Cheyenne. A woman well wise despite her age and unbeknownst to Ivette, even Achilles, he would visit her just to talk aimlessly.

Well, not exactly _aimlessly_.

Living up to her wisdom, without delay she was able to point out his growing "_admiration_". The first few accusations were quickly slapped with denial, but as they say, "Mother knows best" and soon he began to accepts things.

He had paid her another visit this morning, actually hoping to meet Ivette, only to hear she was not present.

So you can imagine his delight when he sees her on the porch.

Happier than you can imagine.

"She's taken quite a shine to you Connor." Ivette says, "I'm glad to know there's someone else that can bring a smile to her face." She turns her head looking up at the sky. "I thank you for this." And the two are back in silence.

"Ivette." She looks back at him, "It may be sudden, but I want to ask a favor." Perhaps, he could kill two birds with one stone. Ivette raises an eyebrow. Connor? Asking for a favor? "I... actually have wanted to ask this for some time now. Since our first meeting."

"Of course," she takes a step closer to him, in case it was one of secrecy, "What is it?"

"I wish to see your face," he says. He sees that smile on her face waver slightly and he regrets that the words ever left his lips. Was his request that farfetched? Or maybe he came off a little too strong?

"I don't see why." He'll hold his ground, in too deep to turn back.

"I've wanted to for a long time." That was the truth and Ivette could feel her stomach turn. He's wanted to see her face? She had a hard time believing this, but Connor was not one to lie. She had to collect her thoughts. However, words escape her for the most part and it was going to be the end of him.

"Can I," Impatient, his hands were already moving before the words came out, "Can I remove your hood, please?" Would he gain her approval? He hoped with everything he had, he would. Ivette blinks in surprise but keeps her head low as his fingers grasp the hem of her hood, his fingers _twitched_ with anticipation. The woman but remained silent as her hands slowly reached up to hold unto his.

"I-Is that alright?" Ivette smiles weakly under the shadow of her hood.

Racked between hesitation and acceptance, she says, "It's fine." before pulling his hands back with hers, pulling her hood away from her hairline.

Connor was met with hair as dark, maybe even darker than his, long but all kept in a single braid that looped over her shoulder and around her neck twice. Eyes of a deep hazelnut yet around the iris had a lighter sheen. Her skin was tan like his but fair and those slightly parted lips, soft looking and glossy. Across the bridge of her nose was scar that traveled from the inside of one eye to the next. Yet the scar did nothing in taking from her natural beauty. She was stunning, a completed picture.

Ivette looked at him, then her eyes darted to the floorboards as if embarrassed.

"Are you satisfied?" she asks, her hand brushes a few strands out of her face and behind her slightly pointed ears. Connor did not respond for he was still taking in her features and in time Ivette's cheeks were gathering heat, "S-Stop staring," her fingers traced along her heated face, "You could at least say something-"

"You're beautiful." That had her reeling. Her eyes widened in shock, but she holds her gaze to the ground. Don't misunderstand, she felt _elated_ hearing those words, but Ivette quickly scoffs at her own femininity. What woman wouldn't like to hear that? Whether it was from a complete stranger, words like that were _powerful_. Yet with Connor, there was sincerity in his voice and it only made the red on her face match the red in her veins.

"Your mother," he begins, now in a more earnest tone, "She'd given me such vivid descriptions of your face but," His hands leave her shoulders and are now on her face, his thumbs caressing her cheeks gently. "You put even those comely words to rest." Ivette could feel her lips dry and her heart pound as he talked. Connor touches her hair, slightly curling his fingers to comb through it. He takes a deep breath before returning his hand to her face to feel her skin once again. Ivette smirks incredulously.

"Or, maybe you've allow your imagination to roam free."

"Maybe I have, but you've put even my own imagination to rest." Ivette bites her lip, cursing herself inwardly. Curse her for wanting to hear more! To hear his voice say such loving things to her. She blinks slowly at him as her hands canvas his. Her eyes close as she leans her face into his palms, she wanted to relish in the feeling.

Maybe her admiration had evolved? There was something about Connor that had her attention set. What was it about these strong hands against her skin that made her face flush? Ivette sighs as she thinks to herself, but something drags her thoughts elsewhere quickly. Her eyes open and she begins to shy away when she felt Connor's breath tickle her lips.

"Ivette...?" She hears him swallow hard as he tries to calm his own heart from its own erratic beats, "Can I kiss you?" He traced her lips with his, but when he leaned in, he found her lips had moved back. Frustrated, he tries again to receive the same response. Ivette had her own reasons, her mother spoke to her of a method, one that really tested one's patience. "We... do not kiss, yet." she was now the one to lean in, her breath fanning over his lips that he made his shudder, "We hold each other's breath," she breaths into his mouth and inhales his breath, "How long can you resist the urge?"

Did he really have such patience? With his hands already circling her back he would have preferred her to just seal their lips now, but he knew he had to pass this test. After a few minutes of consecutive breathing, with slightly opened lips she meshes their lips together. Frankly taking Connor by surprise. He freezes once he feels her lips on his but immediately responds by returning it with a deep kiss of his own. She tasted of coffee beans he noted. A taste after being around her as little as he has, was one he expected but had no qualms about; he on the other hand, tasted of something strong and earthy; again no qualms.

One found the others taste perfectly suitable.

They broke the kiss for a moment to stare at each other with hazy, half lidded eyes and their lips meet again. And again. And again. They break apart finally. His hold, already secure, tightened around her back holding her against him. Her arms rested on his shoulder as she fiddled with her fingers.

"Ivette…" he leans forward, rubbing his nose against hers, "Another favor?" The female arches an eyebrow.

"What is it?" a humble smile coming across his lips.

"Can I be the only one to kiss you like this?" Who's to say Connor's own admiration hadn't evolve into something more?

* * *

_Fin_

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Bah! I've stayed up until 3:45 in the morning doing this!

Reviews are love!

Thank you all for reading, stay cheeky Assassins~!


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